The Killing Machine
by Darth Kieduss the Wise
Summary: Tony and Ziva sit in a plane in New York. It's been taken over by hijackers, who are preparing the worst terrorist atrocity ever. The men are heavily armed and carry powerful explosives. Gibbs faces a terrible dilemma. Storm the plane, lose 173 passengers and crew, including Tony and Ziva. But let it take off, and there will be an even bigger price to pay.
1. Presidential Police

**Dedicated to 3 victims of Air France Flight 8969 and the surviving passengers and crew who went through the terrible ordeal. A plane stands on the tarmac in New York. It's been taken over by hijackers, who are preparing the worst terrorist atrocity the world has ever seen since 9/11. The men are heavily armed and carry powerful explosives. Leroy Jethro Gibbs faces a terrible dilemma. Storm the plane, lose 173 passengers and crew, including Tony and Ziva, but let it take off, and there will be an even bigger price to pay.**

TWA FLIGHT 1177  
PARIS, FRANCE  
11:15 A.M.

Tony and Ziva were coming back from Paris on TWA Flight 1177. They were seated in the very front. As the plane was about to prepare for takeoff, four men dressed in black coats board the plane. The plane would only be on the ground for the short time it would take to clean, refuel and board the passengers for the flight to America.

Boarding was nearly over, but another sign of the security situation. Police boarded the plane for one more check.

"Presidential police," the leader, Achmed Yousef, identified himself, revealing an ID badge from inside his jacket-suit as did the other three as they entered. He motioned at two of his men. "You two, take the rear." Ahmed went into the cockpit, with the fourth man standing guard at the door, holding an Uzi submachine gun.

COCKPIT

Ahmed entered. "Police, nobody move please." He showed his ID. "Presidential Police. We're carrying out an identity check." The captain nodded and headed for the door. Ahmed blocked his path. "No. You stay here. We'll handle."

"It'd be best if I made an announcement," the Captain suggested.

"Okay, go ahead."

The Captain spoke into his ear piece. "Ladies and Gentlemen. Good morning. This is your Captain speaking. There will a short delay while the police..."

_CABIN_

_"...will come to the cabin to carry out a passport check. Please remain seated. We apologize for the inconvenience. We should be on our way shortly."_

"Passport," Mohamed, a man with a scar from his right eyebrow to his hairline, asked Tony and Ziva. They gave them their passports. Mohamed looked at them and gave them back and moved on. Ziva noticed that they were armed. That was really unusual because police don't usually board planes with Kalashnikovs.

"Passports please," a man without a scar asked, holding a Uzi strapped to his right shoulder.

This unauthorized delay to Flight 1177 was making the French military suspicious. The GIGN were already heading toward the plane.

"What the hell?" Tony asked himself, looking out the window looking at the GIGN.

Why are there so many of them? Ziva asked herself. "I don't know what's happening, but something odd is going on."

Mohamed came over and looked out the same window. "Talout!" he whispered in frustration as he ran towards Achmed.

Ziva's eye nearly popped out of her head. Talout was Arabic for Infidel. "We are so fucked."

"Oh, shit," Tony grunted.

A French man got out of his seat and walked toward Ahmed, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his wallet. Mohamed noticed him and followed.

"Hey!" Mohamed yelled. "Hold it! Sit down!"

Ahmed came out of the cockpit to see what was going on.

"Can I help?" the Frenchman asked, showing his ID to Achmed. The man was a French police officer.

"No, thank you," Ahmed answered.

"All right..." the man said as he put his ID back into his jacket. As he looked down, he noticed a grenade on Ahmed's belt and an Uzi strapped inside his jacket.

Realizing he'd been made, Ahmed pulled out his Uzi and put it in the policeman's face. "Hands up! Get back! Get back right now! Get back!"

At that moment, the man without a scar, Ramzi, pulled out a pistol and herded everyone to the back. "All of you get the back! Hurry!" Some music was playing at the rear of the plane. Ramzi aimed his gun at a flight attendant. "SHUT THAT VOICE OF SATAN!" She did immediately. "Sit down! You two! Don't move. Nobody move."

Ahmed came into the cabin wielding his Uzi gun. "We are not the police. We are Mujahideen," he said, starting his rant. These men were not the police, but terrorists. They belonged to a violent group of Muslim extremists. They aimed to enforce an Islamic state on Algeria, which was still under French and American influence, no matter what it took, and seizing the plane was part of that plan. "We are aware of the truth. We will not stop until Algeria is returned to her former holy glory. We can do it! Our time has come. It could be in fighting, anything, whatever! We will succeed! Insha'Allah!" Ahmed finished, waving his Uzi.

Ramzi pulled out a bunch of dynamite stuck together from his jacket. "Look at this! This is a very powerful bomb! There are others just like it, ready for a great firework show in the sky!"

Ahmed paced the aisle waving his Uzi. "We are the Mujahideen of the People!" He stopped at the front of the aisle, waving his gun in a semi-circle from the passengers to his chest. "God has chosen us to die and you to die with us!" This man was a notorious killer. "There is nothing to fear...God awaits us all in his heavenly paradise."

Outside, news of what was happening spread quickly, and reporters arrived on the scene. In America, President Barack Obama was alerted about the situation. It was an international crisis. He spent the whole afternoon on the phone trying to figure out what was going on. It was pretty confusing. The French authorities were determined to get tough. It was difficult to discuss the problem with them.

Ahmed and Mohamed came in the cockpit.

"Give me your jacket, Captain," Ahmed ordered calmly. The terrorists decided to put on the flight crews' uniforms to confuse any GIGN snipers. "Take off immediately."

"I can't. The boarding steps are still attached to the plane."

"Then call and tell them to remove the steps."

CABIN

In the cabin, Ramzi was not happy with what he saw.

"Cover your head," He said to all the women in a calm voice. "Cover your head more," he said to another woman. Woman started covering their heads with blankets, veils and other types of clothe. Their Islamic customs were not being respected. Men and women sharing the same restrooms, sitting next to each other, and above all...women with their heads uncovered. That was intolerable for Mohamed. It threw him into a rage. This is what woman had to do if they followed the religion of Islam. "You too," he ordered, pointing his gun at Ziva, with Tony following her. She did as ordered. "Unacceptable. Move to the back!"

Ramzi's character was very peculiar. The passengers called him 'The Madman' because he was always on the knife edge. He had fits of rage and was always on the brink of fury. What he saw in the cabin was intolerable for him. He thought he had to cover these women up.

_"...We are the Soldiers of Mercy! Allah has selected us as his soldiers! We are here to wage war in his name!" _Ahmed declared on the intercom.

COCKPIT

Now, two hours in the whole damn thing, the hijackers wanted to talk the French military.

"Is this the radio?" Ahmed asked, grabbing the radio speaker.

"Yes," the captain answered.

"You in the tower," he began. "We have taken control of this TWA flight. We are the Armed Islamic Group. Remove the boarding steps." No response. "Do you hear me? Do you understand? Remove the boarding steps! Do you hear me?" He turned to the Captain. "What the hell is wrong with this thing? They don't hear me."

"They didn't hear you because you probably both talked at the same time," the Captain explained. "You have to start again."

Ahmed shoved the radio speaker into the Captain's hands. "You tell them. Do it."

"TWA 1177...What do you want me to say?" he asked Ahmed. The terrorists were determined to take off for Washington D.C. They said that they were going to hold a press conference there. But the plane could not be moved. The passenger boarding stairs were still attached and the GIGN had blocked the plane's path with vehicles. "TWA 1177. The passenger boarding stairs are still in place. Please remove them immediately. I'll repeat it one more time, remove the boarding stairs so that we can leave for America."

They were met with a blind refusal. Things were starting to go wrong for the hijackers. The GIGN strategy was to not to give way on a single point, but it was dangerous policy, which they were soon to find out.

Ahmed grabbed the speaker. "We are going to blow up the world! We are going to blow up the plane and everyone in it! Do you hear me?! Do you hear me?!"

The Captain took the speaker back. "I'll say it once again. Please remove the boarding stairs so that we can leave for America."

Ahmed took it back. "Do you think we are joking? We will show you how we are joking! We are Soldiers of God! We are ready to die!" He put down the radio. "We will show them!" He said to the crew. He left the cockpit. They were about to send a message to the French government.

CABIN

The terrorists selected their victim. A French police officer. Two rows behind Tony and Ziva's new seats, Mohamed and Ahmed approached the said person.

"Can you come with us, please?" Ahmed asked. "We need your help."

Reluctantly, he obliged. He got out his bag and followed them. He was walking, but reluctantly, because he didn't know what was going to happen to him.

"Open the door, please," Ahmed asked a steward. The door was opened as he turned to the police man. "Listen closely. We're sending you with a message for the goverment. Tell them that we're demanding that Abassi Madani and Ali Belhadj be freed at once. Is that clear? Is that clear?"

"Okay," the police man answered.

"Now get out."

The man started walking onto the stairs. Ahmed changed his mind. He nodded at Mohamed, who nodded back. He aimed his AK-47 at the French guy's head.

**TBC. I'm going to update very soon, so please review. Appreciate it.**


	2. Takeoff

TWA 1177  
PARIS, FRANCE

A shot rang out.

The door was closed as the killer cleared holstered his gun. Few passengers were aware of the murder. Tony and Ziva were one of those few. But the pilots were not.

The first contact that they were allowed was when a stewardess was allowed into the cockpit to serve them drinks. She spoke into the Captain's ear, "They killed a passenger."

The Captain rubbed the area in between in his eyes in frustration. He was dumbfounded because he never heard the shot.

The passengers were growing more concerned about what was going on outside. There are signs that the GIGN were preparing for an armed assault on the aircraft. Things were going on inside the plane, sure, but anything that would come from the outside would upset them. That scared the passengers.

As French Interior Minister of the time, Brice Hortefeux, knew exactly how the GIGN operated. Part of his jurisdiction of being the Interior Minister was being executive of the GIGN, along with other duties. The GIGN was taking a considerable risk by ignoring the Prime Minister and Hortefeux's orders and by letting the plane stay on the ground, because they knew that although the GIGN were perfectly capable of ending the siege, it could be a day of blood bath.

The GIGN maintained their hard line. So the terrorists were about to raise the stacks...again. Another passenger must die.

TWA 1177

When they came for the second passenger, Ziva and Tony knew things were going wrong. This passenger was different. He was Vietnamese. It didn't matter. He was the real foreigner on the plane.

As with the first passenger, Mohamed asked the same thing to him. Calmly, the passenger got his stuff and followed him. He was not cowed by their terror, and that must've bothered them.

The Vietnamese diplomat believed that as an outsider, he was being released. As the door opened, the diplomat saw the police officer's body just as Mohamed put a hand on his shoulder and shot him in the head.

A shot rang out.

The stewardess went back to the cabin, coming a bottle of water and some glasses. She whispered, "It's not one now, it's two."

The captain frowned in sorrow.

The behavior of the killer in the group was becoming increasingly bizarre. When he would pass a particular steward, Christophe Mortin, he would take him by the neck and kissed him on the forehead. It was the Kiss of Death. He got enough courage to voice his fears.

"Can I say something? I, uh," he cleared his throat. "I want to ask you a favor. If you, uh...If-if you decide to kill me..." This made Mohamed smile. "...I-I want you to promise me...I-I don't wanna be killed by a bullet in the back, because..." he sighed, "when I die, I-I-I wanna be able to see your face."

"What are you afraid of?" Mohamed asked him.

"Well, uh, it's...it's impossible not to be afraid of what's going on in the plane."

"You don't need to worry. Because if I kill you, you will be a martyr." He put his hand on the steward's shoulder, gripping it like they were brothers in arms. "You will go straight to paradise." He patted his shoulder and walked away.

It didn't make the steward feel any better.

It was a stalemate. Neither side was giving way.

As night fell, Flight 1177 was pinned down by spotlights. The passengers had now been held hostage for seven hours. Initial panic has given way to tense calm. Only Ziva, Tony, the crew, and few other passengers knew that two passengers had been murdered.

The crew was working hard to diffuse the situation. The Captain was showing Ahmed how the plane worked. The rule of the crew under these conditions was to keep things calm, to earn trust, to keep things going, which was very important. At the start of a hostage taking, it was always violent. The crew had to buy time to calm people. To show what you're like. To find out who they are and so on. And then try gain their trust.

"Here, for instance, is the APU, and the auxillary power unit..."

Ahmed nodded and looked interested, which he was.

Although Ziva tried to hide her necklace, Ramzi noticed her Star of David.

On Lufthansa Flight 181, the lead hijacker, Zohair Youssif Akache, borrowed a pen from a women to write something. He noticed something on the cap. It looked like the Star of David, but was actually the Japanese cherry blossom. This enraged him. He asked her what the image was, trying to get her to admit she was Jewish. She realized this and told the truth saying she was not Jewish. Not believing her, he called her a liar and told the women she would be executed the next morning. She wasn't though.

Ziva knew about this and wanted to keep that hidden.

However, Ramzi only sighed and calmly put his hand on Ziva's shoulder, as if he was acting like a father-figure. He explained that although he was an Islamic extremist, he didn't hate Jews. He offered to save her. So that she wouldn't piss him off, she accepted. Ramzi sat down next to her and performed the procedure of converting to Islam.

"La Allah, la Allah," he said. He looked up, then down, putting his hands together in prayer, as did Ziva. She didn't have any disrespect of the believers of Islam, but if it would calm the terrorists down, then she didn't have any problem faking a conversion.

Negotiations secured the release of 63 women and children, but still, the Algerians wouldn't let the plane go.

NEXT MORNING  
AROUND 2:00 AM

It was Christmas morning.

Early in the morning, the Captain toured the cabin for the first time. He found two of the hijackers asleep on the floor. There were two of them lying on the floor, between door One Left and door One Right.

Two of them are asleep, he thought. One's at the rear. There's only one in the cockpit. If an assault takes place now, maybe it won't be so bad.

But that was as far as it went. The Captain could not eliminate one of the sleeping hijackers without being shot by the other.

The GIGN had another trick up their sleeves. They had been able to identify the terrorist leader Ahmed Yousef, and bring his mother to the microphone to weaken her son's resolve.

COCKPIT

_"The Police has surrounded the plane!" _Ahmed's mother cried over the radio. _"Think about your family! Think about your son!"_

"Ma? Ma!" Ahmed yelled. "Ma, I love you but I love God more!"

_"Don't kill yourself! You must live!"_

Ahmed left the cockpit fuming. The GIGN's tactic backfired. It sent Ahmed into a boiling rage.

"They went and got my mother," Ahmed raged to Mohamed. "Can you imagine them? My mother! They went and dragged my mother over here! How many Americans are back there?"

"A few men and women," Mohamed answered.

"Go get a man!"

Mohamed went to do so.

"Who do they think they're playing at? What do they think they are doing?" Ahmed yelled at a passenger that listened to the whole thing. Grunting, Ahmed fumed back to the cockpit. He was furious. He had no intention of changing his mind. Even the love of his mother, even his mother, couldn't do anything.

Until now, the hijackers hadn't targeted any American citizens. But their time has come. Next to Tony and Ziva were two staff members of the American embassy are on board, a beautiful redhead female secretary and her husband, a chef. Mohamed escorted the man to the cockpit.

COCKPIT

Mohamed came in with the chef and put him to knees.

Ahmed spoke into the microphone. "Okay, now we will teach you how to play games with us. Are you listening to me?" Ahmed spoke to the chef. "You tell them that if they don't let this plane take off, we will kill every single passenger one by one. Tell them." He gave the chef his microphone and hit a switch that transmitted to both the passenger cabin and the tower.

Sweat pored down the chef's face. "My name is Jacen Morgan. I...w-work at the embassy. They're threatening to kill us, if you do nothing. Stop the executions. You gotta do something quickly. Quick as you can. Please, let the plane take off. Please, and I have a wife!"

Ahmed took back the microphone and hit the switch that only transmitted to the tower. "We care nothing for you. We are Soldiers of God. We'll kill him and throw him outside the door. You can come and pick him up."

Mohamed and Ahmed took Jacen out of the cockpit.

CABIN

"Get me a magazine," Mohamed told the fourth man. He went into his jacket and gave one to Mohamed. Jacen was terrified. He was looking at the flight attendant that witnessed Ahmed's rage about his mother, but he was terrified. Was he pleading with her to help him? Was he?

Mohamed loaded his gun. "You two," he said the two flight attendants that were in his presence. "Go to back to your places...Now!"

The flight attendants went to the back and Mohamed took Jacen to the door.

"No, it's not possible," the flight attendant that looked at Jacen thought. "It can't happen like this. It's not possible."

...

The shot rang out.

Most of the passengers heard it. The red-haired woman started sobbing.

The door opening light confirmed that the hijackers had carried out their threat.

The Captain grabbed the microphone in rage. "TWA 1177. You happy now? See what you get when you play tough?" he raged.

Security advisors in the tower witnessed the execution of that man. It was something that they would live through with great emotion in Paris, because they was patched in with the conversations between the plane and the control tower.

The executive French government can no longer stand by. Prime Minister Fillon got on the phone and threatened the GIGN. "I will hold you all responsible for what's happening, make it known to international opinion and have you executed. Let the Americans deal with the this. We had our glory in 1994, now it's their turn. It's their airline anyway."

His threat worked. The commanding officer of the GIGN at the airport caved in. Finally, after thirty-nine hours of terror, Flight 1177 could leave for America.

Just then, there it was. They could leave. In the plane, there was a joy you could not imagine. And really, the impression was that was it. They succeeded. They had all succeeded and were going to be safe. They were leaving Europe.

But their's a problem. All the time they've been on the ground, the Captain had kept the axillary power unit running. It's a small jet engine in the tail of the plane that keeps the power supply going. It uses about 40,000 tons of fuel a day. Now there wasn't enough to reach Washington DC.

"Navigation lights," the pilot said.

The co-pilot flipped a switch. "On."

"Air conditioning packs."

Flight 1177 prepared to take off. The crew were relieved to be going home. Both they and passengers believed that whatever the future held, it couldn't be as bad as what they were leaving behind. They didn't realize the horror that awaits them.

After two days of terror and the deaths of three passengers, the French authorities were allowing TWA Flight 1177 to leave for the United States. The hijackers say they're going to have a press conference there.

"Before takeoff checklist completed."

But before the plane took off, the Captain would seek an insurance from the hijack leader.

OUTSIDE COCKPIT DOOR

"What is it?" Ahmed asked. "What's wrong?"

"Look," the captain started. "You wanna get to DC to talk to the journalists. I'll take you there. But I want to know if you're gonna blow up the plane in between Paris and Queens."

"Why do you ask me if I'm gonna blow up the plane?" Ahmed asked.

"Because the responsibility for these passengers is on my shoulders."

"No. There is nothing to worry about for you or the passengers. We fly to Queens, like you say, refuel the tanks and then go to Washington. I give you my word."

"All right," The captain said as they both returned to the cockpit. He believed them that the plane would not be blown up between Europe and North America. He didn't know if they would've given them the same answer between Queens and Washington DC. When someone's got explosives, they're not for making a birthday cake.

Ahmed and Mohamed were strapped in their seats in the cockpit, smiling at each other. They were so excited. They were like kids at the Christmas tree, excited, happy. What's more, they succeeded.

QUEENS, NEW YORK, USA  
THE NEXT MORNING  
3:30 AM

The plane approached John F. Kennedy International Airport. The hijackers were unaware that NCIS agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs and the SWAT team had gone there ahead of them from Washington DC, and were planning a showdown.

Usually, you would arrive on ground that was held by the enemy. But here it was the enemy who would arrive on ground where you are in total control. That was a key element in the success of the operation.

"30 feet..." the pilot counted down. "...20 feet..."

As the plane landed, for the hijackers, it was the magic moment. They were landing in America. They will refuel and get provisions to take off again and go to Washington DC, because that was the objective.

The airport was very dark. There was lights of plane and the lights of the 'Follow-Me' car, which they followed but did not go to the terminal. The plane was deliberately being lead away to a remote corner of the airfield. Tension was very high, because the American government had received some alarming news.

While the plane was flying towards America, the American government received other information. According to which, the hijackers planned to use the plane to carry out an attack on Washington, far more worse than the September 11 attacks. They were planning to succeed where the hijackers of United Airlines Flight 93 failed, crash into the White House. The information was credible and they took it seriously. So the decision was made, that no matter what, the plane would not take off from Queens. No matter how high the price may be, the plane would not take off. They picked a very precise part for the plane to park, and then they just prayed for time.

The American tactics were now being dictated by Leroy Jethro Gibbs. His plan was to wear the hijackers down. While stalling is considered mandatory, the Americans would spin out negotiations as long as possible. They know that Yousef and his men must be tired. The hijacking had now gone on for two days.

TWA 1177  
COCKPIT

"TWA 1177," the Captain spoke to the microphone. "We require immediate refueling."

"Twenty-Seven tons," Ahmed added.

"Twenty-Seven tons," The captain repeated.

The hijackers have learned that twenty-seven tons of fuel will fill the tanks, far more than the nine tons needed for the flight to Washington. It appeared to confirm the intelligence report. The plane was to be used as a firebomb.

"They say it's not possible," The captain told Ahmed. "Uh, because of the killings. Because of what happened in France. It's in all the papers. The workers that do the refueling are afraid. They won't come near the plane."

"Tell them we want to go now. We'll do a press conference in Washington." Ahmed whispered something to Mohamed.

"TWA 1177," The captain spoke. "They want to leave for Washington right away. They wish to hold a press conference in Washington..." The Captain listened to his ear piece as the tower responded. "They say why go to Washington when all the international press has come here to Queens. They're all here. Why do a press conference in Washington? There's no point. We can do it here on the plane."

Agent Gibbs has baited the hook. Would Ahmed bite?

**TBC. Please review. Appreciate it.**


	3. Press Conference

"Tell them we want CNN," Ahmed ordered. "Tell them we want CNN."

"TWA 1177, they wanna speak to CNN."

The hijackers had agreed to hold a press conference aboard the plane. Little did they realize that it was all part of a clever plan.

Tactically this press conference was important, because it enabled the American government to get some of the passengers moved to the rear of the plane. The negotiators asked that the front of the plane be cleared for the press conference. The real reason was to create a passenger free zone for the SWAT team when they storm the plane. Because what the hijackers didn't realize is that the planes doors can be opened from the outside.

CABIN

A blond flight attendant looked out the window.

"Are they coming?" A male flight attendant asked.

"No, not yet," blond answered.

"Tony, what are we going to do?" Ziva asked. "I think we should fight."

"Ziva, are you nuts? They have guns and bombs."

"If I can get a good run at them, I can take them out."

"Ziva, they...have...guns..."

"Tony, I know you don't wanna die," Ziva said. "But that guy had been eying you and I suspect you might be their next target."

"Ziva, they're not gonna kill me."

By now, the plane has sat on the Queens airstrip for twelve hours. The SWAT team knew how many hijackers there was, and where they were, suggesting that they put microphones on the fuselage. Now they waited for the sun to go down, to take advantage of the dark. On the plane, they know nothing of this. They were stilling for the press to arrive.

TWA 1177  
COCKPIT

"Tower, 1177," the captain spoke. "Everything's ready here. You can send the press now...1177, wha...what do you mean they're not ready?"

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no," Ahmed complained.

"You said they were ready over an hour ago and you were going to get them. Come on, there's not much time left. There must be hundreds of journalists there. This will be the biggest scoop of their carriers."

"They're up to something," Ahmed said. "We can't stay here."

"I assure you. It's, it's, it's..." he shook his head.

"Captain, move the plane over there," Ahmed calmly said, pointing to an area with his submachine gun.

"I promise you-"

"Captain, move it right now. Do it," Ahmed interrupted, getting irritated. "Move the plane over there, where the other ones are."

"We'll be fine. I promise you-"

"Move the plane! Go over there where the other ones are!" Ahmed raged. When the Captain hesitated, Mohamed grabbed his shoulder. "Do it! Do it."

"Let's go," The captain said to his crew. "Start engines."

Suddenly, all of Gibbs' plans were in disarray. Ahmed Yousef, the hijack leader, now had the initiative.

Tactically for the Americans, the situation was very bad. Their positions were based on the plane being parked at Point A, and all of a sudden, it's at point B. So, they had to reorganize very quickly.

The Captain was forced to park right at the foot of the tower, close to the terminal and other flights. If they blew up the plane now, the casualties could be enormous.

COCKPIT

"Tell them it's too late now!" Ahmed raged, waving his gun. "There won't be a press conference! It's too late! It should have been done! Tell them to fuel the tanks! We're leaving! They have till Five o'clock! At Five o'clock, we're takin' off! Tell them Captain! Do it! I've had it! Do it!"

The Captain spoke into the mic. "TWA 1177..."

Agent Gibbs had his strike team picked up as fast as possible to move to new positions. He put snipers on the terminal roof, where they would have a view of the cockpit. He only has a few minutes to come up with an emergency plan: A calvary charge of passenger boarding stairs.

Three air stairs and thirty troops.

This ws the plan:

Two stairs of eleven men each would penetrate the rear-right and the rear-left doors, then a smaller penetration by a smaller team of eight men at the front right door to gain control of the cockpit, since they knew that Yousef was in the cockpit. Their intention was to cut off the cockpit from the rest of the plane.

5:00 PM

No fuel had been delivered. The authorities had no intention of allowing the plane to take off.

TWA 1177  
CABIN

5 o'clock came along, and there was the moment Yousef had to do something. He came into the cabin to choose his fourth victim, but he seemed reluctant. He chose a sleeping Tony, which caused Ziva's heart to burn with fear and regret.

Ahmed took a deep breath and sighed. He looked at Ziva. "I don't wanna do this," he explained in almost at a whisper, after seeing Ziva's reaction. "But I got no choice."

Nodding at his comrades, Ahmed left the cabin without taking Tony, which filled Ziva's heart with relief. She didn't know what was going on Ahmed's head. She never would. She didn't know if he changed his mind. He kept putting off this execution. She would not let anything happen to her Tony anyway.

Wait...Her Tony? Since when was he Her Tony?

Ziva kissed Tony's forehead in relief. He stirred, but he continued sleeping.

They fired on everything around the plane. Mahmud slightly opened a door and opened fire on a truck coming at the plane.

The hijackers knew that they were in the end game now.

Mahmud opened fire again.

Ramzi discovered there was public address system. He grabbed the mic and started reciting verses from the evil Quran. It was very difficult, because it was prayers for the dead. They was silence, and all of a sudden there was a state of panic.

"We have to prepare ourselves for death! We are going to die as martyrs! God is waiting for us! Le hu may he somo wan!"

COCKPIT

The hijackers know that the negotiators are in the control tower. They decided to send them a message. Mohamed opened the co-pilot's window and aimed his AK-47 at the tower.

"Allāhu Akbar!" Mohamed screamed as he literally sprayed the tower with machine gun fire. "Allahu Akbar!"

TOWER

McGee was in the tower when all of a sudden he was ducking for cover when the hijacker hosed down the tower with bullets. The glass shattered all around him. They were literally machine gunned.

Since the plane landed in Queens there had some moments of tension, but nothing like what seemed was about to happen.

COCKPIT

When Mohamed closed the window and returned to his seat, he was smiling at Ahmed, who smiled back. He put another clip in his gun.

"We're gonna succeed in our mission, Captain," Ahmed declared. "Don't worry about that."

HANGER

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was given the Go Ahead order by the President. He decided the moment had come to act. When the hijackers started firing with an automatic at the tower, this presented a danger. This gave Gibbs justification to start the attack. Before he did, he talked to the SWAT team.

"All right, everybody, listen up. At times like these our capacity to retaliate must be and has to be massive, to deter all forms of aggression," he said, grabbing a shotgun. "Gentlemen, Lock and Load..."

Gibbs and the SWAT cocked and locked their guns.

That's when the tower was fired on again. "Go, go, go, go!" Gibbs yelled, and the three air stairs moved forward towards the plane. Gibbs was perched on the air stairs that would take the rear-right door.

TWA 1177

Ramzi and Mahmud ran down the cabin and burst into the cockpit.

"They're coming! They're coming!" Ramzi yelled. "The Americans! They're coming!"

Ahmed pointed towards the cabin and shouted some orders in Arabic and Allāhu Akbar.

"Allāhu Akbar!" Ramzi yelled back as he and Mahmud ran back into the cabin. Ahmed closed the cockpit door.

At that moment, every understood, that it was the beginning of the assault.

The calvary charge was under way.

There were eight of them on the front air stairs, which got to the aircraft first. There was a small problem with the height as it was a little bit higher than the door. The door hit the top of the air stair. A slight step back. The door opened. The air stair touched the plane and the group went in.

Gibbs, his group of eleven and the other air stairs went inside the plane at the rear.

Then it was the apocalypse.

**TBC. Please review. Appreciate it.**


	4. Operation Showdown

TWA 1177

Armed with Benelli M4 Super 90 shotguns, LWRC-PSD submachine guns and pistols with laser finders, Gibbs and the SWAT team stormed the plane.

Smoke grenades exploded and filled the cabin with smoke.

"SWAT! Get Down! Get down!" SWAT team yelled at the passengers.

"Tony! Ziva!" Gibbs said, spotting them. They turned around. Gibbs gave them their regulation SIGs and Kevlar armor.

The group that was going in the front came under a deluge of fire from the hijackers in the cockpit, who shot at everyone who entered. Extremely murderous fire. They wasn't a moment's doubt about the nature of the gunfire. Everyone was shooting to kill.

Six of the eight front SWAT group were shot down quickly, which caused the surviving two to retreat to the larger groups.

"HANDS ON YOUR HEAD! DON'T MOVE! HIDE! GET DOWN AS LOW AS YOU CAN!" Gibbs and the SWAT team yelled. "GO, GO, GO, GO!"

Hundreds of bullets were whistling through the cabin. Grenades were exploding. Their was smoke and confusion everywhere.

Tony ran to the cockpit with Ziva screaming at him to slow down.

"TONY! STOP! YOU'RE GONNA GET KILLED!"

Tony ignored her and put his back to the wall that separated the cockpit door from the gally. Frequently, Mohamed would poke his Kalashnikov and fire. Several SWAT were wounded.

Eventually, a smoke grenade was tossed near the cockpit. After smoke filled the cabin, Tony used the cover to approach the cockpit. As he entered, Ramzi turned to face him. Before Ramzi could react, Tony shot him between the eyes. Muhmud fired some shots at him. Tony quickly shot him in the stomach. Muhmud wasn't dead but he went down.

Kneeling down beside Tony, Mohamed raised his Kalashnikov and fired in short bursts. Tony could hardly react as 7.62x39 mm bullets slammed into his arms and the sides of his kevlar armor. Tony's squeezed the trigger one more time, but the bullet simply shot through the windshield.

Recovering from the shock of seeing his friends being gunned down, Ahmed raised a Glock pistol at Tony.

"Allahu Akbar!" Achmed screamed. The gun shot blared Tony's ears as the slug slammed into his shoulder. His head slung backwards as he fell on his back outside the cockpit.

"Allahu Akbar!" Achmed screamed again. Mohamed poked his Kalashnikov around and fired at the SWAT men. He hit two SWAT in the legs. Achmed fired through the wall. "Shoot them!"

Achmed looked down to see Muhmud feeling his chest, looking at the blood on his fingers. Achmed returned his attention to the Americans, firing again. "Allahu Akbar!"

SWAT team continued sweeping from the back to the front.

"Nobody move! Hands! Don't move!"

"Hands over your head! Lemme see those hands!"

"Nobody move!"

Achmed fired his gun till it clicked empty. Muhmud raised his arm up to hand Achmed his Uzi.

"Thank you, comrade," Achmed said as he accepted the gun. He fired through the wall again. "Strike the cowards! Insha'Allah and only Allah!"

The Captain was in a very bad spot, so he tried to make himself as small as possible. You stop breathing, and you imagine that you're hard enough to stop the bullets.

Tony, lying bleeding on the floor outside the cockpit door, finally came to. He could hear gunshots, though it was muffled. He could see the lights and ceiling of the airplane. He twitched his blood covered fingers. His eyes rolled to the back of his head.

"Show me your hands!"

"Nobody move!" one SWAT said with an Irish accent.

Three SWAT approached the cockpit with a LWRC-PSDs. Mohamed poked his out around the door, spotting them. He aimed his Kalashnikov at them and fired. All the shots missed. They fired back.

Mohamed turned to Achmed, pointing to a certain part of the wall next to wall. "Abdul, shoot over here! Shoot here!"

Abdul did as suggesting, again screaming, "ALLAHU AKBAR!"

The three SWAT took cover as bullets went through the cockpit wall and nearly took their heads off. Limping on bleeding legs, one of the SWAT went to the back.

Mohamed fired a few shots till his Kalashnikov clicked. Meanwhile, Gibbs, Ziva and some SWAT took positions in the cabin.

"Allah is the one true God!" Ahmed screamed as Mohamed put another clip in his Kalashnikov. "Shoot them! Keep shooting!"

Mohamed cock his Kalashnikov, then put a finger to his lips. "Hold on." Mohamed poked his head beside the cockpit door, seeing that the SWAT team had begun evacuating passengers from the plane. He fired at Gibbs and Ziva, who returned fire.

"Where's Tony?" Ziva asked.

"I thought he was with you!" Gibbs replied.

"He ran up ahead like he was Rambo," Ziva groaned.

Suddenly, Gibbs could see Tony lying on the floor. His heart sank as he saw that Tony was covered in blood. But he was relieved to see Tony move his head.

Two SWAT came over Tony, who came to again. Suddenly, the SWAT came under fire, getting hit in the arms. Suddenly, a bullet struck Tony's right ear. He wanted to scream, but he didn't strength. A SWAT, injured in the leg, looked down at the SWAT. He didn't want to leave the NCIS agent, but the barrage of bullets gave him no choice.

Seeing how vulnerable Tony was, Gibbs took position to provide cover fire. Mohamed poked his head, Gibbs fired a shot.

Tony opened his blood covered eyes. As the gun battle continued, his hands started to shake. _Is this it?_ he thought. _Am I about to see Jesus at the Pearly Gates? Wait, is it Jesus that sees ya at the Pearly Gates, or is Saint Peter? God, please help me. I'm not ready to die._

Suddenly, Muhmud leaned forward to take Ramzi's Uzi. By doing so, he came into Gibbs's line of fire. One shot in the chest from Gibbs killed him. Achmed fired again through the wall.

"You are all enemies of Allah!" Achmed screamed.

The snipers on the terminal, armed with Remington 700 sniper rifles with scopes, could see the hijackers in the cockpit, but frustratingly couldn't get a clear shot. The co-pilot was blocking the view. But that problem was about to be solved.

The co-pilot slowly opened the window. When it was fully opened, he attempted to pull himself out the window, but stopped as Mohamed aimed his Kalashnikov gun at him. Deciding not to focus his attention on him, Mohamed returned his attention to the door, which was riddled with bullet holes. The co-pilot jumped out of the window and landed on the tarmac with only a sprained ankle. He managed to stagger away to safety.

Mohamed pointed his gun at the Captain, who stared in horror at the muzzle of the gun. At that monent, Achmed pushed the Kalashnikov away. "No! Don't shoot him! Go in the corner. Hide over there!"

Mohamed leaned to the side, as Achmed fired through the wall again.

"Move!" Gibbs yelled. "Go, go, go!"

At the rear of the plane, the SWAT team was evacuating passengers through a hail of gunfire. The emergency slides inflated and every passenger got the hell out of the plane.

"Stay down!" Go!"

Mohamed fired his Kalashnikov again. Gibbs and Ziva returned fire. Gibbs's SIG clicked empty. He tossed it and pulled out another gun. Having noticed that Gibbs's clicking, Mohamed fired again. A few shots hit Gibbs in the Kevlar armor, but he wasn't hurt. He fired. Ziva also fired.

"Let's go!" the SWAT yelled. "Move it! Move it! Come on, people! Let's go!"

"Allah is the one true God!" Achmed yelled as he fired again through the wall.

"Heads down! Heads down!"

"Allah is the one true God!"

Gibbs picked up his radio, contacting the snipers. "You have to aim for the cockpit. Right window."

_"Target, three seconds!"_ a sniper replied.

COCKPIT

Achmed's Uzi finally clicked empty. He tossed it in anger.

"Uggh! Kill them-"

Suddenly, a bullet ripped through his chest.

Now, only one terrorist was still alive, Mohamed, but he was going down fighting.

"Abdul! On your feet!" he yelled. "Abdul! Abdul!"

Only then did he realized that his boss was dead. Mohamed looked at his dead comrades and shook his gun with a grunt.

There was only the flight engineer and the captain left in the cockpit. They looked at each other. And there was just this one hijacker. He looked at them, one after the other. His three comrades were here, dead. Out of spite, he could've killed both of them, but he didn't. What more can you say?

After 54 hours, there was mutual recognition and respect between the hijackers and the hostages. Bonds were created in this drama. These bonds were activated and contributed to saving the lives of some members of the crew.

CABIN

"Agent Gibbs, evacuation complete!" a SWAT man said.

"Good job!" Gibbs said over the gunfire. "Move, move! Let's go! Go to the front!"

They all got up and at a cautious pace, approached the cockpit.

Achmed gripped his Kalashnikov firmly as he prepared for the final confrontion. He pointed a finger to the sky as he made a final prayer. After he was done, he pulled the pin on a grenade and tossed it into the cabin.

Tony became aware that something had hit him in the arm. His eyes widened as he looked at the round green object next to him.

"Greande!" someone yelled as the SWAT took cover.

Using all the strength he could muster, possibly with some divine assistance, Tony turned onto his side as the grenade exploded. Shrapnel ripped into his back. Fortunately, he was wearing Kevlar so all it did was hurt like hell.

The area in front of the cockpit filled with smoke, some of it coming out the door.

The SWAT lifted the glass shields from their helmets as they coughed their lungs out. The smoke was hell on their lungs.

"We need to take him out!" Gibbs yelled. He pointed to two SWAT men. "You and you, follow me."

The two SWAT men put their shields back down and followed Gibbs.

Mohamed fired at them.

Ziva turned Tony over and dragged him toward the back. Tony came to again. He realized that he was moving, but it was not him that was doing it. He looked up to see someone dragging him. He couldn't see the person's face because the airplane lights turned the person into a silhouette. But he recognized the shape of his rescuer.

"Ziva," he whispered.

"That's right, Tony," she said. "It's me."

She pulled away behind a wall in the back.

Gibbs fired to shots just as Mohamed attempted to fire at him. Suddenly, Mohamed threw something. It was a stick of dynamite. The fuse was lit.

"Grenade!" Gibbs screamed. He and the other SWAT ran for cover as the dynamite blew up. Smoke filled the airplane. The smoke was thicker than the smoke from the previous grenade. This enabled Mohamed to actually leave the cockpit and enter the cabin.

OUTSIDE

A SWAT team squad was going up the stairs, guns raised. The forwardmost man raised his pistol and fired as Mohamed appeared at the smoke covered door. Mohamed returned the fire.

A bullet struck the SWAT man's gun. Somehow the shot detonated the pistol's catridges. The explosion destroyed the pistol and sent the man backwards, slamming into his comrades.

INSIDE

As Mohamed turned back to people in the cabin, his body was repeatedly struck by bullets. He shook and spasmed as they continuely shot him. His Kalashnikov fired a shot in the air as he fell to the ground.

The smoke cleared as Gibbs approached Mohamed's body. Only 50 Cent could've survived that barrage of bullets, but not this man.

"All clear!" Gibbs yelled as he picked up the AK-47.

Ziva back ran to Tony and put his head on her lap. "Tony? Medic! Tony? Are you okay? Can you hear me? Speak to me!" she patted his cheek in attempt to help him regain consciousness.

"Yeah...yeah..." Tony replied groggily. He attempted to sit up.

"Easy, easy, easy, easy," Ziva said, noticing the sharp metal object poking out the side of Tony's neck.

"I've had better shoot-outs," Tony chuckled though his pain, and the metal object in his neck. "I got somethin' in my neck."

"Let me try to pull this out for ya." Ziva leaned in to try to pull the metal from Tony's neck.

"Where's Gibbs?" Tony asked.

"He's fine, he's right over there."

Tony winced, gritting his teeth hard as Ziva tried to pull the metal object from his neck. When the piece of metal was finally out, a medic immediately wrapped the wound with bandage.

A few minutes later, as medics were taking care of the injured and the dead. Ziva was stroking Tony's hair as he blinked in an attempt to figure out what had happened.

"You did good, DiNozzo," Gibbs said. "You did good."

**TBC. Please review. Appreciate it.**


	5. Hospital

Ziva was sitting next to Tony's hospital bed, staring at him. The doctor had informed her earlier that he was sleeping and he'd be able to leave within a week.

She reached out to touch the jagged cut that ran from his right temple to his under his eye. (Eye is unharmed). But before she touched it, she stopped herself and pulled her hand away. She couldn't stand the thought of him being hurt, especially when it was she could've prevented it.

She needed to leave, needed to get out of this hell that she'd fallen into. Needed to leave and spend some time alone and think.

Ziva laughed at herself. She had been alone for so many years before she was sent here and he walked into her life. Then Jeanne happened and she had been alone again, on her own, like she had always been.

She pushed herself out of the hospital chair and almost ran out of the room, unable to look at him. Unable to stand the thought of him dying.

Unable to stand the thought of what she had almost let happen.

She walked to the elevator and pressed the button for the garage floor. As the doors closed, she was completely and totally alone.

Like she always had been. . .

Like she always would be.

As soon as she got outside, she started walking away from the hospital, not caring where she was going. She walked cautiously in the dim light, not noticing that it was nighttime.

Tony's eyes snapped open. He was breathing hard and his body seemed to be acute to every smell, sound, and fell in the room. He laid there on his side, trying to get his breathing under control as his eyes, of their own accord, frantically searched the hospital room, not really looking for anything. He reached to rub his face, only to discover they were bandaged. What the hell? He thought. Oh yeah. The gun exploded.

Breathing under control, he flipped onto his other side and ran into a warm body. He stiffened. As he wondered who it was, he watched as the sleeping Ziva turned over and she buried her head into his shoulder.

He slipped an arm around her waist and listened to her breathing as she slept. At least, he thought she was asleep, until she whispered into his shoulder, "You're up early."

It wasn't a question but it wasn't statement either. He shrugged. Quiet settled over them as they each fell into their own thoughts.

She laid there in his arms, basking in the warmth they gave her. She knew it was only a matter of time before he asked the question that she dreaded.

Knew it was only a matter of time before he pushed her away. . .

She squeezed her eyes shut, and dared the tears to fall. Tears were a waste of energy, a couple drops of water in an already dried-up ocean. But still. . .she knew the question was coming.

So why was she sitting here, waiting for it to be asked?

Willing for it to be asked?

It was a stupid question, for she knew the answer. She loved him. She smiled into his shoulder and finally let her tears fall; her joyful tears. She said it again and again in her mind and every time she said it her nerves went ablaze.

Tony frowned as wetness seeped his shirt where her head was resting. He glanced down at Ziva, worried. "You okay, Ziva?"

He heard a muffled, "I am fine, Tony."

He frowned. "Then, why are you-." Realization hit him hard in the chest. Ziva only cried if she realized something big had happened. If she realized that someone had hurt someone she loved.

If she realized that she loved someone.

His breath caught in his throat. He pulled away abruptly, so abrupt that Ziva looked up at him in alarm, worried, her eyes asking him what she had done wrong.

But he had only pulled away so he could see her eyes. He gazed into them before he asked softly, "Ziva, do you-."

"I love you, Tony," she said, cutting him off before he could finish.

He let out the breath that he hadn't known he'd been holding before giving her a smile that dazzled her. "Thank god," he murmured before he pulled her lips to his. They kissed each other frantically as if, at any moment, they would be ripped from each other's arms and hurled to the opposite sides of the world.

After a few more frantic kisses, they slowly drew apart and gazed into each other's eyes, hers liquid brown, his piercing jade. They stayed like that for awhile, both of them comfortable in the silence that had settled over them. They stared at each other as if they could see one another's soul before Tony asked quietly, "Tell me about what happened that day, Ziva."

Ziva stiffened at the question. So this was how it ended. Minutes after we say 'I love you,' the moment flies from our gasp, she thought.

Tony felt her start to pull away and he saw from her eyes that her wall had come back up again. Instead of letting her push herself away from her like she always did, he tightened his arm around her waist. She struggled against him for a few seconds but couldn't budge his arm. She gave up. "Tony," she mumbled, "let me go-."

His lips descended onto hers. He grinned against her mouth as she moaned. She twined her arms around his neck and plastered her body more snugly against his.

A few steamy kisses later, Tony pulled back. He caught her face in his hands and gazed deeply into her eyes. He said softly, "Please, Zee. I want to know. I need to know." He skimmed her cheek with his thumb. "No matter what you tell me, I promise I won't be mad. And I will always, always, love you."

Ziva searched his eyes before she nodded. She hugged him hard once more before she stood up. He let her, knowing that she would not leave.

She walked to the window that covered the far wall. She stared down at the dark street below, not really seeing it.

Not really seeing anything.

She closed her eyes.

Tony watched as she told the story of the aftermath of the hijacking, but the horror at what she'd done didn't wash over him like Ziva expected it too. He just grew more angry, but not at her. Never at her.

And when he heard her voice crack, he wanted to go and kill the thugs that had done this to her, but he realized that he already did. But he knew that, right now, she needed him.

He yanked the IV out of his arm before throwing his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He walked, quietly, to her and stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. As soon as he did, she turned in his arms and pressed her face into his chest as her tears spilled over.

He rocked her gently back and forth as she cried, before he started to guide her towards the hospital bed. He picked her up and slid her under the covers before he slid in as well. He held her head to his chest and preened her hair with his fingers as he waited patiently.

Ziva woke up to Tony's heart beat. It was a steady rhythm against her ear. Her head rested against his chest, her back to the far window. She could tell that he wasn't asleep from the way his arms were tense as they held her close to him.

She mumbled into the shirt that the hospital had given him, "Did you. . ." She let the question hang in the air.

He answered immediately, knowing what she was asking, "No. . .couldn't. . ."

She flinched, guessing the reason why he had not been able to. She started to untangle her arms from where they were wrapped around his waist. One minute, she was doing this. The next, she was crushed against his chest, his arms forming a barricade around her to keep her from leaving him.

Frantically, she glanced up at him to see if he was in pain. He looked, oddly enough, calm.

She pulled back a little to make sure and froze when he looked down at her, his eyes shining with. . .love?

No, it couldn't be, not after last night. It couldn't be. . .

"Tony," she murmured, "You know I. . ." She ended it like that, knowing that he knew what she was trying to say.

He smiled softly, his eyes a liquid jade. "I know. . ." But then he seemed to realize why she had said it in the first place. He grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him. "Don't even think that what you told me last night changes anything," he said quietly, but forcefully. "I still love you and I will always love you, no matter what happens."

Ziva stared at him, searching his eyes before she threw her arms around his neck and smashed her mouth against his. At first he didn't respond, he was so startled, but then he tilted his head slightly and took the kiss deeper. Their mouths opened and their tongues met, dancing together to music only the two of them could hear.

He heard the machine go crazy in the background as his heartbeat elevated rapidly. After awhile, he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. He said, his breathing ragged, "Love you, Zee."

"Love you, Tony."


	6. AN

Complete redid Chapter 4. Please check it out.


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